


Just Know You're Not Alone

by mustachio



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Sex, Eventual Threesome, Fluff, It goes without saying Carlos is POC, M/M, POC Earl, POCecil, Polyamory, Semi-Slow Buildup, Smoking, Tattooed Cecil, Typical Night Vale Weirdness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustachio/pseuds/mustachio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fact #1: Carlos's life is not a soap opera.</p><p>Fact #2: Earl Harlan loves Cecil Palmer.</p><p>Fact #3: Cecil Palmer loves Carlos Mendoza.</p><p>Fact #4: Carlos Mendoza <s>loves</s> loved Earl Harlan.</p><p>Fact #5: Earl Harlan has been transported to another plane of existence.</p><p>Fact #6: Carlos Mendoza has fallen in love with Cecil Palmer.</p><p>Fact #7: Carlos may have found a way to bring Earl (and Dana!) back to this plane of existence.</p><p>Fact #8: Carlos may have to re-think Fact #1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Just Want To Know

**Author's Note:**

> Probably takes place around episode 5 or so, I haven't decided on an exact timeline yet. Definitely before 16.

“Do you like Cecil?”

The question comes out of nowhere, or seems to at least, breaking Carlos’s train of thought and the relative silence of the grocery store so suddenly that he jumps, dropping the jar of tomato sauce he’d been pulling off the shelf with a loud thud onto his foot. 

“Shit!”

He spins around quickly, pulling his foot out from under the (thankfully plastic) jar with clenched fists and teeth, breathing heavily through his nose to keep himself from yelling anymore. The man who must have asked the question is still standing there, but his hand is covering his mouth in a poor effort to hide his laughter. Carlos sighs, glaring at the man without really meaning to, but not regretting it when he realizes what he’s doing.

“What?”

The man’s smile fades quickly, hand lowering to his side. Carlos looks him over. Black hair, brown eyes, Korean, attractive, but also a little plain looking. He’s wearing a Boy Scout uniform and Carlos guesses he must be one of the scoutmasters because he’s probably around Carlos’s age, but also definitely too old to be anything else. He doesn’t look familiar, but he seems to know who Carlos is, and why shouldn’t he? Everyone else knows who he is thanks to the man this man is talking about. It’s creepy and weird and Carlos is pretty sure he’s going to have to put an end to Cecil’s near constant gushing about him on air soon or leave the city so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

“Do you like Cecil?”

Carlos is silent for a moment, looking down at the jar still at his feet, and looking up at the assumed scoutmaster again after a second.

“I don’t dislike him. I don’t think I like him the way he wants me to like him. Why?”

The man shrugs, glancing to the side, and looking vaguely like he regrets asking. He shrugs.

“He’s always talking about you,” He pauses, still not looking directly at Carlos anymore, and rubs his arm. “He’s not a bad guy, you know? He’s just… He says things without thinking a lot. It gets him in trouble sometimes. But he’s not a bad guy.”

“I don’t think he’s a bad guy.”

Even as the words leave his mouth, Carlos isn’t sure how much he believes them. There have been a few times when he felt like Cecil might be making fun of him. He’s pretty sure at this point everything Cecil says is absolutely genuine, but it doesn’t creep him out any less, and it doesn’t make him want to spend any time with the radio host.

“Then why don’t you like him?”

Carlos quirks an eyebrow, waits a moment before responding because he’s not sure if he’s actually supposed to answer or not, but the man isn’t saying anything else so he assumes it wasn’t rhetorical.

“Sometimes you just don’t like people no matter how much they like you. It has nothing to do with what kind of person they are.”

The man opens his mouth looking for all the world like he wants to say something, but also like he’s suddenly come down with a case of throat spiders and is thus unable to make the words come out. Carlos’s curious expression doesn’t fade and he waits for another moment for the man to say something, but nothing else is said. Carlos gestures to another part of the store, indicating he’d like to get on with his shopping.

“If that’s all, I’d like to—“

“He doesn’t just like you. He really does love you.”

“He barely knows me. We’ve only met twice in person. Honestly, I only ever speak to him when I need a way to tell the whole town about something.”

The man looks frustrated now, the rubbing at his arm getting rougher now.

“I know. He still loves you.”

Both of them remain silent for what must be a full minute, the scout frustrated, Carlos confused. Why does any of this matter to this guy? Who even is he?

“Just because someone “loves” me, doesn’t mean I have to love them back. I’m here for work, not personal reasons.”

“Why can’t you just give him a chance?”

“Why do you care?”

The words come out harsher than he’d intended them to and he flinches from the anger buried in them, but doesn’t try to take it back. He doesn’t even know this guy’s name, who does he think he is getting involved in Carlos’s personal life?

“Cecil is my friend. I want him to be happy.”

There’s something about the second sentence that lingers. The man hasn’t trailed off, the sentence came to a definite end, but there’s definitely something about it that sounds like he wants to say something more than he has. Carlos isn’t entirely sure what that something is, but he has a feeling it has to do with this guy’s feelings for Cecil. Carlos sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as best he can with the grocery basket hanging uncomfortably from his wrist.

“Tell him to be happy with someone else.”

“I have. He doesn’t want someone else.”

“You mean he doesn’t want you.”

A moment of silence, and then:

“Your hair cut is stupid.”

“You and Cecil can bond over that, then.”

The man frowns, crossing his arms over his chest for a second then dropping them back to his sides, hands hitting his upper thighs with a shorts-muffled slap. Carlos looks him over a second time without really thinking about it. For a grown man in a Boy Scout uniform, this guy looks remarkably good. The man takes a step closer and Carlos is half convinced he’s about to start whispering threats to him or possibly punch him in the face the way he probably would if their life were a movie, but then he bends down, picking up the jar still at Carlos’s feet.

He places the jar in Carlos’s basket – doesn’t drop it in or anything, it’s a remarkably gentle action, given how quickly they seemed to be headed towards an argument. If they hadn’t already been arguing before. It wasn’t particularly heated, but they weren’t being particularly friendly either. Maybe “debate” would be a better word. The man sighs and Carlos wonders if he’s ever going to get his name. At least he’s been able to figure out why he’s here.

“Cecil doesn’t think your hair is stupid. He just doesn’t like it.”

“Enough to run Telly out of town.”

“Enough to run Telly out of town.”

The man nods as he repeats Carlos’s words. At least they can agree on something.

“Look,” The man starts and looks at Carlos a little too intensely, but that seems to be a common habit among the people in this town. “I didn’t come here because I’m jealous. I’m not gonna say I’m not, but that’s not why I’m here.”

Carlos expects him to continue on, explain why he is here, but the explanation never comes.

“Why are you here?”

The man shrugs and sighs.

“I just wanted to know if you like him. He’s not just some guy I like. He’s my best friend. He talks about you all the time; even when he’s not on air.”

Carlos stays silent after that, more out of a lack of response than wanting him to continue or just not wanting to respond.

“If you don’t like him you should tell him. He’ll back off if you want him to, but he’s going to continue on like this if you don’t say anything. He’s not as oblivious as he sometimes makes himself out to be, but he’s stubborn and doesn’t like to stop doing something unless he absolutely has to,” He pauses, thinking of what his next words are, and continues speaking a second later. “He probably won’t stop talking about you completely, but he’ll stop calling you perfect and talking about how in love with you he is. It’s just what he does. He talks about everyone without thinking about whether or not they want him to. Night Vale might be “the most scientifically interesting community in the U.S.” as you put it, but it’s still a small town. Everyone knows everyone.”

“I don’t know you.”

The man looks vaguely surprised for a moment, like he was expecting Carlos to answer differently, but Carlos just looks at him expectantly. He’s tired of having a conversation with someone he doesn’t even know the name of. The man’s lips curve into a small smile, he holds his hand out for Carlos to shake. It’s a remarkably normal gesture of a town like this.

“I guess it has been a while since Cecil has mentioned me specifically. I’m Earl Harlan.”

Carlos smiles back, taking the offered hand. He’s glad for the introduction despite the conversation that led up to it.

“Carlos Mendoza.”

Earl’s smile turns into a grin, remarkably white teeth slightly startling, and Carlos wonders if that’s a sign that he’s just as abnormal as the rest of the people who call Night Vale home or if Earl just takes remarkably good care of his teeth.

“You have a last name.”

Carlos’s laugh comes out as more of a snort, the way it would if he were in the middle of drinking something only to find that instead of going down his throat, his drink is suddenly shooting out of his nose. It’s weird, but it’s definitely a laugh, and Carlos can’t help but to grin back with teeth not nearly as white as Earl’s.

“Yeah, I do. I’ve probably told Cecil a thousand times and he still insists on just calling me “Carlos the Scientist”. Are you sure he’ll stop gushing about me if I talk to him?”

Earl’s grin shifts a little, not exactly turning sad, but more like he’s trying to say sorry through it. Arms still at his sides, Earl holds out his palms and shrugs.

“Like I said, he’s stubborn. It’s worth a shot, right? If only to let him know you’re not interested.”

Grin turning into a small frown, Carlos glances down at his groceries.

“Yeah, I guess. I’d rather not lead him on.”

Eyebrow quirked up, Earl’s grin fades as well, and he looks at Carlos a little like Carlos is a child who has just been caught doing something he knows he shouldn’t be doing.

“I never said you’re leading him on. I didn’t come here to accuse you of that. I don’t even think you are leading him on. I don’t think Cecil thinks that, either. I really just wanted to know if you like him and the best way to find answers is to ask questions, isn’t it?”

Carlos opens his mouth to respond, but now it’s his turn to forget how to use his voice so he shrugs instead and looks back up at Earl a little guiltily. He didn’t mean to accuse Earl of accusing him of things, but that’s kind of what he did and he feels bad about that. He nods, but still doesn’t say anything. Earl smiles again and puts his hand on Carlos’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. Earl smells good, Carlos notes, and suddenly feels vaguely uncomfortable standing this close to him, but can’t seem to muster the will to move away.

“You should come to one of our weekly meetings. I know a lot of the boys would like to hear about your research. A few of them have actually asked about you. It would be a nice break from our usual activities.”

Carlos blinks once, not really sure what to say to that. Did scientists usually speak at Boy Scout meetings? Did it matter if they did? The Boy Scouts of Night Vale didn’t exactly operate in the same way as the Boy Scouts of America, at least not so far as Carlos could tell. He’d never actually been in the Boy Scouts, but his older brother was right up until his freshman year of high school and now his nephew was joining.

“Yeah, sure, I guess I can.”

“Great! I’ll speak to you later then.”

Before Carlos can even say anything back Earl is gone and a slight tingle seems to have taken the place of his hand on Carlos’s shoulder. He isn’t sure if that tingle is just in his head, if it’s just the idea of an attractive man touching him that’s making him feel like this or if it’s something wholly Night Vale induced. He sighs and wills his heart to stop beating like he just ran a marathon. He’d never considered himself a man prone falling for someone and he’s pretty sure that’s not what’s happening now. Tingle and slightly elevated heart rate aside, Carlos has definitely not _fallen_ for Earl Harlan. He’ll leave all of the falling in love at first sight to Cecil. 

But he’s pretty sure it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit interested in the Scoutmaster.

“Yeah, speak to you later…”


	2. Here Comes the Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos fulfills a promise and gets to know Night Vale's most prominent Scoutmaster a little better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I certainly took my sweet time getting this chapter out. I actually meant to have this up a little over a week ago, but this chapter just did not want to come out of my brain. Sorry about that. Anyway, it's up now so no use thinking about that anymore.

It’s about a week later when Earl calls Carlos. Carlos is pretty sure he shouldn’t be able to do that because Carlos is also pretty sure he never gave Earl his phone number. He doesn’t remember Earl giving him his number either, certainly doesn’t remember programing Earl’s number in his phone, and yet there it is—“Incoming Call: Earl Harlan” blinking periodically on his phone as the phone itself vibrates wildly on his desk. 

Carlos is too distracted by the call to answer it.

Earl calls again about a minute later and this time Carlos acts quicker than necessary, rushing to pick up the phone as though someone were about to reach down in front of him and take it.

“Hello?”

The word comes out as more of a question than a greeting, like he doesn’t have caller I.D. or maybe like someone who does have caller I.D., but who isn’t sure why his caller I.D. knows this number. He rests his chin in his hand, tapping the pencil he’s holding between two fingers against his cheek.

“Did I call at a bad time?”

“Oh, um, no, not at all; I wasn’t expecting you to call so I left my phone in another room.”

“Good. I was thinking of having you and your team speak at the Weird Scout meeting tomorrow, if that’s alright with you. You did promise to come one day, after all.”

Carlos sits up a little straighter in his chair, squints at something scribbled down, and scratches it out. 

“Um…,” Carlos looks over his notes again, if they can even be called notes. They’re really just one giant nonsensical mess. “I don’t know. Tomorrow is kind of short notice. You didn’t plan anything else for your meeting before hand? I’m in the middle of an experiment and I’m not sure if it’ll be done by tomorrow.”

He frowns, feeling a little guilty about saying no. He did say he’d come to a meeting at some point, but having a little more notice would have been nice. Maybe he can postpone some things… 

“Oh, I’ve had this planned for about two weeks now. Two of my boys – Franklin Wilson and Barton Donovan – looked into this meeting when they earned their Foresight badge and saw you there.”

That answer raises more questions than it answers. Badge of foresight? Having this planned for two weeks in advance when Carlos only just started to consider going? Looking two weeks into the future? Good god this town is messed up. Carlos isn’t entirely sure how long it is before he responds to Earl, but the fake cough Earl lets out indicates it’s been too long.

“Sorry. Um, yeah. Then I guess I’ll be there.” Not that it even feels like he has a choice. “Is there anything specific you want me to talk about? Or do? Or… whatever.”

“Whatever you want. I’m sure the boys will be interested in no matter what you choose.”

“Alright, so I guess I’ll look over some of my stuff and—Earl?”

Carlos pulls the phone away from his ear and realizes, with some disappointment, that Earl had already hung up. No goodbye or anything. He puts the phone down, rubbing at his forehead in irritation. That was rude. Who just hangs up without warning like that? It’s possible the call was just lost or maybe something urgent was happening, but he’s pretty sure Earl just hung up on him. Maybe he just wanted to end the conversation before Carlos could change his mind. He’ll choose to believe that excuse. It’s easier to go with that than to think the guy he’s developing a crush on doesn’t want to speak to him all of a sudden after inviting Carlos to come to the Scouts’ meeting.

“Hey, Simon?” Carlos calls to one of his grad students who looks up, startled, from what must have been a riveting game of Candy Crush. Carlos rolls his eyes, and decides to pretend he couldn’t see what Simon was doing in the reflection of the ancient TV set behind him. “Were you ever in the Boy Scouts?”

“I was for, like, a year, but I kept playing nasty tricks on the other kids during the camping trips so my parents had to take me out.”

Simon’s grin can only be described as “shit-eating” and while Carlos isn’t looking to torment these kids, he supposes that might actually be fitting for Boy Scouts in Night Vale.

“Well, I just agreed to talk about our research with the Boy Scouts here tomorrow. Any suggestions on what we should actually talk about?”

“Um, no. Any other place and we might be able to talk about the rocks and plants we found, but here? Pretty sure the five year olds here know more about that stuff than we do. Why’d you agree to do this on such short notice, anyway?”

Carlos sighs, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t agree to it, not really. He was just kind of told about it and didn’t protest. Which, he guesses, could be a form of assent, but for the sake of his sanity he’s going to pretend it’s not.

“Well, we have to find something.”

*************

In the end they do decide on talking about the rock and plant samples they’ve found. It’s the only thing they’ve been able to make heads or tails of so far and, if the Scouts already knew everything they were talking about, no one said anything. The boys sit quietly (almost eerily so) when Earl tells them to and look on as Carlos talks with more interest than Carlos thinks anyone has ever shown in his work before.

It’s a little creepy if Carlos stops to think about the fact that his career has been relatively successful over the years and interest in his work has not been lacking. He chooses not to think about it. If nothing else in this town is normal, he can at least pretend some of the children are.

He’s proud of himself when it’s all over. He got through his presentation mostly without stuttering or tripping over his words and sure he was only speaking to kids, but for Carlos that’s an accomplishment. It isn’t until he’s got all of his stuff packed up and he’s snuck around to the back of the building that he really gets to speak to Earl alone. 

Earl is leaning against the wall, eyes closed, and looking very much like he could collapse at any moment. There’s a cigarette held precariously between two fingers, his hand hanging limp at his side. His uniform is wrinkled, hat slowly slipping off as his head lolls against the concrete behind him. If Carlos didn’t know any better, he’d say Earl might actually be dead, but a dead man can’t hold himself up like that and Carlos can see the tell-tale rise and fall of Earl’s chest caused by his shallow breathing. No, Earl isn’t dead. He’s just sleeping. Or as close to sleeping as one can get without actually losing consciousness.

“Earl?”

“Hmmm?”

Earl turns his head in Carlos’s direction, but his eyes stay closed.

“Are you okay?”

Carlos doesn’t get a response immediately. Earl stands up a little straighter, takes a deep breath. His free hand rubs at his eyes and just like that he looks refreshed and ready to face the rest of the day. The smile on his face is surprisingly bright and genuine considering Earl had just been on the verge of falling asleep on his feet.

“Just tired. It happens when you’re responsible for twenty school aged boys.”

Earl taps at his cigarette, letting some of the ash fall to the ground before taking a drag from it. If he notices Carlos staring he doesn’t say anything about it.

“What brings you over here, Mr. Scientist?”

“Same as you.”

Carlos gestures at the cigarette in Earl’s hand, shoves one hand into his pocket and fishes out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Earl’s eyes follow his movements, gaze not intense… more appraising than anything, but the stare makes him clumsy all the same. Beads of sweat form on the palm of his hand and before Carlos even realizes it his lighter is hitting the floor with a loud clang, the cigarettes falling next to them, but much with a much quieter impact. For five full seconds Carlos stands there with wide eyes and open mouth, not fully registering the need to bend down and pick up his fallen items. 

“Sorry.”

Why is he apologizing? That’s a question even scientists don’t know the answer to. Or at least it’s a question Carlos the Scientist doesn’t have the answer to. The tips of his ears heat up and, hopefully before Earl can actually see the flush forming on his face, Carlos ducks his head down and squats to pick his things up. When he looks up Earl is looking at him with an expression he’s pretty sure is the same one as the one he was wearing when Carlos bent down, but that now seems to say “for what?” instead of being mostly neutral and non-communicative. 

But Earl must know that Carlos doesn’t have an answer to that question because instead of asking why Carlos is apologizing he asks:

“Are you new at this?”

And Carlos feels his face heat up even more. No, he thinks, no, I’m not new at this. I’ve been smoking since my first year of grad school, but something about you staring at me like that makes me feel like I just turned 18 years old and decided to do this to spite my parents or something. Carlos thinks that and says:

“Yeah, um, sort of. Except not really.”

While fumbling to get a cigarette in his mouth and lit before he can make himself sound any worse than he already has. He half wishes he’d just said that he is new at this. At least that way his inability to work lighter he’s owned for two years now would be a little more understandable. Earl must stand there watching him with that same not-quite-amused-not-quite-judgemental look for at least a full minute before he reaches over to pluck the lighter from his hands. Within three seconds he’s got Carlos’s cigarette lite and the lighter back in its owner’s hands. 

“It can be hard sometimes.”

Earl speaks with a tone Carlos can’t quite place, but that makes all the embarrassment drain out of him almost immediately. It’s a tone that makes him feel like maybe he was actually having trouble with something difficult and not a task he’s had seven years of practice at. Earl smiles with a smile that’s neither patronizing nor condescending and that makes him feel like he’s really in the company of someone he can trust and Carlos thinks that it’s fitting for him to work with kids. Earl smiles with a fatherly kind of smile, one that’s all comfort and warmth and kindness. It doesn’t make his heart skip a beat, but it makes him feel like things are going to be okay. Carlos isn’t sure what things he needs reassurance on, but Earl’s smile gives it to him nonetheless.

“So are we actually allowed to smoke back here? It kind of feels like something that wouldn’t be allowed.”

Now Earl looks vaguely amused again and Carlos almost wants to laugh because of it. 

“Don’t you think you should have worried about that before doing it?”

Carlos isn’t exactly sure what’s so funny about that question; maybe it’s left over nerves combined with left over embarrassment mixing with the infectiousness of Earl’s amusement that makes it funny. Whatever it is, it has Carlos breaking out into a sudden burst of laughter that sounds more like a giggle, really, except not as embarrassing as an honest to god giggle would actually be.

“There aren’t any actual rules against it,” Earl explains between his own fits of giggles. “But you’re really not supposed to do it where the kids can see. I usually manage to sneak it pretty well. It’s probably not something you should do here if you’re worried about breaking the rules, though.”

It takes three deep breaths before Carlos can calm himself down enough to respond properly.

“I use pens and read non-municipally approved books and I’m a scientist. I don’t care too much about the rules. I was just curious. It’s one of the first things a scientist is, you know.”

“Just one of the first? What’s the first?”

Carlos has to take a moment to think about that. What’s the first thing a scientist is? Curious sounds like it would be the right answer, but there’s got to be something better than that, right?

“Self-reliant, I think. It’s nice to have research partners and all that, but you’ll never get anything done if you have to keep relying on other people. You have to be able to do things for yourself a lot of the time.”

Earl nods slowly, like he’s really taking the time to think about what Carlos is saying. He flicks some more ash off of his cigarette, takes another drag, and Carlos does the same.

“That’s a good thing to be. Scouts should be self-reliant, too. It’s hard to rely on anyone in this world. Even parents can’t be relied on in the hardest of times.”

When he says that, Earl’s face darkens, tone lowering to match his expression. It sends a shiver down Carlos’s spine and he wonders if something happened to make Earl feel that way or if it’s just the aftermath of a lifetime in Night Vale. He doesn’t ask and Earl doesn’t offer any insight on his own, expression shifting back into the bright, friendly thing it was before, so Carlos decides to forget about it and move on.

“Is that more or less important than being prepared?”

“Less, obviously. Self-reliant might be the first thing a scientist is, but prepared is the first thing a Scout is. If you aren’t prepared for the dangers that come with scouting it won’t matter if you rely on yourself or others. You’ll be dead before you can even think to do anything.”

That’s… not as surprising as it probably should be. If Boy Scouts were to participate in deadly activities anywhere, it would most certainly be here. Everything is deadly in Night Vale. Why would that be any different just because it’s kids? Actually, Carlos has been noticing that people seem to care very little about the kids in Night Vale.

“That’s a good way of looking at it, I guess.” Carlos inhales, letting the smoke sit in his mouth for a moment before slowly blowing it out. Good isn’t exactly accurate, but the only other words that came to mind were ‘insane’ and ‘frightening’ and ‘interesting’ and none of those sound like good alternatives. “So how’d you end up becoming a Scoutmaster, anyway?”

“Oh, you know, it was always prophesized that I’d be Scoutmaster. It’s not as big a deal as being the Voice of the town, but it’s still a pretty important job. Anyway, I’ve always liked being in the Boy Scouts and I like kids. I think I probably would have tried to get his position even if it hadn’t been part of a prophecy that I’d get it.”

Carlos chooses not to question the whole prophecy thing and pointedly ignores the vague mention of Cecil. He doesn’t bother to meet Earl’s eyes when he mention’s Cecil, either. He has no desire to talk about the weird radio host who constantly talks about him on air.

“So what do you do when you’re not with the Scouts? You only have meetings once a week, right?”

“Sometimes more. I teach at the elementary school, too.”

He points in the direction of the school in question and Carlos nods, gaze following Earl’s finger.

“Wow, you must really like working with kids.”

It’s just an offhand observation, one Carlos didn’t mean to actually give voice to, but it brings a smile to Earl’s face all the same. It’s a different smile from any Carlos has seen on him before. It’s not quite the almost fatherly smile from before, but it’s not his amazingly bright default grin either. This one is proud and caring and a little shy. Earl shrugs, ducking his head in a small show of modesty.

“Yeah, I do. Parents don’t always care about their children the way they should so I like being there for them when they’re inevitably abandoned.”

The use of the word ‘inevitably’ makes Carlos a little uncomfortable. Something like abandoning your children should never be inevitable, least of all in a dangerous place like this.

“Is it really that common for parents to just leave their kids?”

Earl shrugs, putting his cigarette out against the building. 

“Well, it’s not like the parents just walk out on the kids, you know? But when a horde of carnivorous butterflies are attacking the city, most parents will just choose to save themselves before going back for some helpless little kid.”

He says that too casually for Carlos’s liking. It puts him on edge, makes him focus a little more on his own cigarette if only to keep himself from saying something about it. That’s just how this town functions; he can’t really say anything against that. Actually, he probably could, but he’s already at odds with a great deal of the town for questioning how they live and how their existence is even possible. Apparently his lack of words on the matter doesn’t mean much, though, because Earl is quick to add:

“I don’t agree with it either. That’s why I like working with kids. Like I said, I want to be there for them when their parents aren’t.”

Carlos nods. That makes him feel a little better because at least there is someone looking out for the kids, but not by much.

“So what do you do when you’re not doing Science?”

“Honestly? I’m probably sleeping. I’m pretty much always working on experiments or something.”

It wasn’t a joke, but Earl laughs and Carlos can’t help but to chuckle right along with him.

“Dr. Mendoza?”

Carlos turns, still smiling, to see Simon standing behind him. Simon is tossing the keys to their van from hand to hand and kicking at the ground lightly to create a tiny dust cloud when the toe of his shoe hits the dirt. Carlos wonders how long he’s been standing there. He looks bored, all slouched and droopy eyed and the perfect picture of someone who could pass out right then and there, which seems a little strange because his first cigarette is only just reaching its end meaning he couldn’t have been back here for more than ten minutes. Not exactly enough time for anyone to get that bored. Maybe he just really disliked spending an hour talking to children. Then again, Carlos can’t deny it really felt like more time should have passed. That seems to happen a lot lately, Carlos realizes; just the other day he thought he spent at least three hours working on an experiment when in reality only half an hour had passed. At the time he assumed it was just his frustration with the wacky results he was getting, but maybe it had something to do with the town. It’s kind of a ridiculous jump to make, but ridiculous tends to be the best way to go in Night Vale.

“What is it, Simon? “

“Me and Dr. Ballas put everything back in the van. We’re ready to go when you are.”

Simon turns his gaze to look directly behind Carlos, gives a nod of acknowledgement to Earl. Earl returns the gesture, smooths out his uniform so that it looks as pristine as a Scoutmaster’s uniform should be.

“I should be heading back to my troop, anyway. Good talking to you, Carlos.” Earl says and begins walking away.

Carlos watches him walk a few steps, the smallest twinge of disappointment making itself known in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey, Earl! Wait,” He waits for Earl to turn, which he does, and Carlos mentally kicks himself for blurting out like that. He really needs to learn to control his mouth better. “We should get something to eat some time.”

This idea apparently has Earl feeling skeptical. Both eyebrows go up, the corners of his mouth turn downwards in a barely noticeable frown.

“As friends,” Carlos quickly amends.

“Yeah, sure,” Earl’s response is hesitant, but Carlos chooses to ignore that and focus on the fact that he said yes. “I’m free Thursday if you want to get dinner or something.”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you then.” Carlos grins a little more widely than is probably appropriate, but if Earl notices he doesn’t say anything, just giving his own smile back and continuing on his way to his troop. He wasn’t lying when he said this would be a meal as friends, but he’s not going to pretend his still present interest in the Scoutmaster isn’t sending his mind in some less than friendly directions. He turns his attention back to Simon who has turned his attention to juggling the contents of his pockets. “Ready to go?”

“I already told you I am. That’s what I came back here to say.”

That earns an eye roll and a head shake, but Carlos doesn’t bother to actually respond. He just catches the van’s keys while they’re in mid-air, effectively ruining Simon’s streak of not dropping anything, and starts to head towards the van.

“Hey! I was on a roll and you just ruined it!”

“Uh-huh, let’s go.”


	3. Still Feel You Stare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having dinner with your crush's crush is risky business.

“So I’m having dinner with Carlos tomorrow night,” Earl begins and pauses to leave room for Cecil’s reaction. Cecil doesn’t say anything back, exactly, but there is the sound of something crashing very loudly to the floor and a barely restrained scream immediately following. Cecil comes out of the closet – literally; Earl is pretty sure Cecil came out of the metaphorical closet the moment he came out of his mother – and gives Earl a tight-lipped, very obviously forced smile. He looks a tad hysterical and Earl isn’t entirely convinced Cecil isn’t imagining killing him right now. “As friends.”

The addendum doesn’t have Cecil relaxing the way Earl had half hoped it would have, but that’s hardly surprising.

“Are you? You never told me you’re interested in him.”

“I’m not. Again, we’re just going as friends.”

Cecil frowns, but he looks less murderous now, which Earl takes as a good sign. He lies back on Cecil’s bed, stretching his arms and legs to try, and relieve some of the tension of the day. Cecil takes a seat next to him.

“If you’re just going as friends, why did you tell me?”

“So that you don’t think I’m trying to keep it a secret when you find out later. I could cancel if it would make you feel better.”

Cecil lies back on the bed now, too, but keeps his eyes on the ceiling. He’s still frowning and Earl half wishes he’d kept his mouth shut, but no. It’s better that he said something.

“No, don’t do that. Just don’t fall in love with him. I don’t want to have to fight you for him.”

“You of all people should know that won’t happen, Cecil. I like you too much for that.”

“Earl…”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You’ve already made it perfectly clear that you don’t like me the way I like you. I just meant I like having you as a friend too much to make a move on someone I know you like.”

Cecil shifts and turns until he’s lying on his side with his head on Earl’s shoulder. It’s a position they’ve been in a million times before, but it’s painful now in a way that it wasn’t when they were kids; in a way that it wasn’t before Earl realized he’s in love with Cecil. Cecil fingers his neckerchief and keeps silent. He’s probably upset with Earl for agreeing to go to dinner with Carlos at all, but Carlos is a nice enough guy, and Earl isn’t going to keep away from him just because of some baseless worries Cecil has about the nature of their relationship. Earl sits up, putting some distance between the two of them.

“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you about that. I should go. I have a Scout meeting in a few minutes and you have to be at that PTA meeting in half an hour, don’t you?”

“Earl, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Sometimes people just don’t like other people like that. It’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s just not much fun to be reminded of it so often. And I really do have to go to a meeting.”

Earl misses the hurt expression on Cecil’s face when he says that. How can he when he’s already walking out and Cecil isn’t chasing or calling after him to make sure things are okay between them? Not that it’s surprising that he doesn’t. Earl can call Cecil his best friend all he’d like, but for the past two years nothing has felt farther from the truth. He just wishes he knew what changed to put this distance between them.

*********

Thursday, Carlos learns, is the ideal day to come to Big Rico's.

It's not really that the food is better; for the most part it's not. The food is the same as it is on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and, okay, it's a little better than it is on Friday for the same reasons everything else is better on Thursday. Saturday and Sunday really depend on how City Council feels and how the math works out and honestly weekends at Big Rico's are one complicated mess. It's easier not to think of them. But, Carlos decides, Thursdays are definitely better days to eat here than any other, mostly because Fridays are always a little bit terrible. Friday is Big Rico's rush day. It's when everyone is rushing to get their city mandated slice in and the sheer amount of people cramming themselves into the tiny pizza parlor always has the staff feeling run down and lazy. 

Thursday is the day they make up for their inevitable Friday laziness. On Thursday the gum is always scraped from the tables, the sentient mold washed from the dark corners, and bright smiles plastered (sometimes literally) on the faces of the service as they move quickly to and from the kitchen to and from the tables with an energy they don't have on any other day.

Carlos watches as a waitress darts by, three large pizzas balanced precariously on both arms, and picks at one of the bread sticks on the table. He's pretty sure he never ordered them, but they'd materialized on the table about two minutes after he sat down and while he has every reason to be skeptical of randomly materializing bread, he's too hungry not to eat them. Anyway, they taste relatively normal so he figures they can't be so bad. He'll just save one to examine later.

By the time Earl settles down in the seat across from him, Carlos has already been waiting for fifteen minutes and is feeling a little silly for not taking into account the thirty second walk from his lab to Big Rico’s. He could have gotten a little more work done or taken the time to change into something a little nicer looking than his lab coat and stupid science pun t-shirt or _something_ that wasn’t waiting here for a guy that wasn’t even supposed to show up for a quarter of an hour.

“Hi,” Earl says setting his keys to the side of the table. He’s a little breathless and Carlos wonders if Earl was rushing to get here while he was feeling silly for being early. “I would have been here sooner, but one of my students got sick when one of Old Woman Josie’s…” 

Here Earl leans in a little, glancing around the restaurant for anyone that might be listening in. It’s a pointless gesture. Someone is always listening in this town. 

“Friends; one of her friends. You know who I mean, right? Well, one of my students, Olivia, got sick when one of Old Woman Josie’s friends tried to take over my Transmigration lesson so I had to go home and change. I’m just glad it was at the end of the day so I didn’t have to call in a Substitute. They can be almost as dangerous as Librarians when you don’t give them at least a day’s notice.”

Carlos makes a face and takes a sip of water. A simple “I got held up” would have sufficed, but he can appreciate the honesty, at least. He decides not to inquire further about the substitutes. If Earl says they’re as dangerous as Librarians, then that’s all he needs to know. The last time he didn’t believe someone about a warning like that he nearly got his arm torn off by a pack of hungry Librarians in the Science section.

“It’s fine. I wasn’t waiting long.” Which is mostly true; fifteen minutes isn’t a long time to wait in the grand scheme of things. “I guess it makes sense that an Angel would want to try teaching that. They should know more about that than anyone.”

Earl gives him a stern look, but doesn’t bother to say what Carlos knows he’s thinking. Angels aren’t real. One appeared in his classroom to try and commandeer his lesson, but they definitely aren’t real.

“Someone should really tell Ms. Josie’s friends that they aren’t real. They might interfere with things a lot less if they were properly informed about the state of their existence.”

The sharp pain that shoots through Carlos’s leg tells him that the joke wasn’t appreciated, but again, Earl chooses not to give voice to his thoughts. Instead he asks:

“ _Ms_. Josie?”

To steer the conversation away from the questionable existence of Old Woman Josie’s celestial friends. Carlos sucks in a breath through gritted teeth. The pain isn’t fading quickly, but Carlos finds himself fighting off a smile. He knows joking about things like angels is dangerous in Night Vale, but between being constantly terrified that City Council is going to turn the air into poison gas out of boredom and frustration over his lack of usable data, he’d like to at least be able to make jokes with a new friend.

“Not that funny, huh?” Carlos sits up straighter; he’d doubled over as best he could with the table in the way after Earl kicked him. “But yes, Ms. Josie. I have enough manners that I cannot, in good conscious, call her old woman.”

“She prefers it. It’s not just some name Cecil came up for her.”

“Why would anyone prefer to be called ‘old woman’?”

Earl shrugs, glancing over at his phone which has begun buzzing quietly on the table.

“Why not? We’re all going to die someday, might as well accept when you’re old.”

That’s a perfectly morbid way of looking at it.

“If you really want to know why she wants to be called old woman, I’m sure you can ask her. Have you had a proper conversation with her yet? She’d probably like to meet you.”

Carlos has to think about that for a moment. Has he had a proper conversation with her? He doesn’t think so. He knows he’s been in the same room as her. She was at the press conference he called that first night here and she’d been at the meeting about the lead door at Radon Canyon last month, but he hadn’t been looking to have any conversations those days.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

A glass of water is set down in front of Earl and they both turn their heads to see a young girl standing there, notepad in hand, and patient smile on her lips.

“Are you guys ready to order?”

Carlos nearly jumps ten feet out of his skin when she speaks. She sounds normal enough at first, but three words in and he can’t help but notice the absolutely inhuman noises that seem to be hidden underneath the voice he immediately hears. It’s like she has a second pair of vocal chords made up of some sort of eldritch horror that echos every word she says. Both of them give him a funny look, Earl’s slightly more concerned than the waitress’s vaguely offended expression so Carlos clears his throat and does his best to force himself to at least look a little more relaxed than he feels.

“Sorry, I thought I… saw a bug.” The excuse is flimsy at best and they all know it, but Earl and the waitress stop looking at him like he’s done something wrong so he doesn’t attempt to come up with anything better. He turns back to Earl, whose phone has started going off for the second time. The phone goes unanswered. “Did you just want to get a large pizza or…?”

“That’s fine. Just cheese, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The waitress nods and walks away and Earl leans back in his seat, sipping at his water.

“So how is your science going?”

Carlos sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s not going at all. We’re at a complete stand still.”

“Is Night Vale really that strange?”

Carlos sighs again and almost laughs. Strange doesn’t even begin to cover it, but he’s not about to start ranting about how absolutely impossible this whole messed up town actually is and how some days he seriously considers packing up his stuff and leaving, scientific opportunities be damned.

“No, that’s not why. I mean, Night Vale really is that strange, but that’s not why we aren’t making any progress right now.”

Earl keeps sipping at his water. Carlos takes his silence and his somewhat curious look as encouragement to continue.

“One of the guys on my team, Dave, his birthday is coming up and he wanted to do something special. Well, he had this idea to turn the lab into a laser tag area.”

“And you let him?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. He threatened to hand all of my pens and pencils over to the Sheriff’s Secret Police if I didn’t help. I’ve spent the last three days making glorified laser pointers and rearranging everything so that I don’t end up having to go in for re-education.”

The thought of it sends a shiver up Carlos’s spine and Earl nods understandingly. Carlos has never even had a second hand experience with re-education, but he’s certainly been able to pick up on enough details to know that it’s not something he should be looking into.

“I assume you’ll be playing a non-lethal version, right? You don’t seem like the type of person to kill someone else for fun.”

“Laser tag isn’t supposed to be… You know what? Never mind. Yes, it’s a non-lethal version. Unless it’s an accident, no one is getting hurt.”

For the third time, Earl’s phone goes off, and Earl barely looks at the screen before he turns it off completely and sets it off to the side. Carlos raises an eyebrow, looking from the phone to Earl.

“You’re not going to answer that?”

“No.”

“Whoever it is must really want to talk to you. It might be important.”

Earl shakes his head, slides the phone over to Carlos.

“It’s Cecil. I made the mistake of telling him I was meeting you here today and now he wants to know every detail as it’s happening. If you think that’s important, you can tell him.”

That brings a grimace to Carlos’s face. Now he wishes he’d never said anything about the phone at all. The last thing he wants is to know that Cecil of all people knows where he is without having explicitly said something himself.

“Why did you tell him?”

“Because I thought he should know, even if this isn’t a date.”

“You know he probably thinks it is.”

Earl shrugs, not looking the least bit concerned about that.

“If he thinks this is a date he took the news remarkably well.” It's kind of true. Cecil accepted the idea of Earl and Carlos having dinner together pretty quickly. It's Cecil's repeated rejection of Earl's feelings that made things terrible.

The pizza is set down between them and Earl smiles in that way he does that has Carlos feeling instantly more comfortable and relaxed.

“Anyway,” Earl begins, taking the slice nearest to him. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask me here to talk about Cecil. Tell me about science and life outside of Night Vale. I’ve only been outside the city once. I’m curious about the rest of the world.”

“That’s a lot of ground to cover. Is there anything specific you want to know about?” Carlos takes a slice of pizza for himself, looking at it thoughtfully.

“Just tell me about your favorite thing out there that you don’t have here.”

Carlos has to think about that for a moment. His favorite thing about the outside world? The obvious choice would be the way numbers make sense outside of Night Vale. He could talk about how he could get a haircut without worrying about the well-being of the person who did it. He could talk about how even people who have never seen mountains at least know that they exist. But Carlos doesn’t talk about those things. In the end, Carlos decides to talk about beaches.

He’s pretty sure even people in Night Vale know about beaches. They aren’t like mountains. Night Vale might not have access to beaches, but everyone is aware that they exist somewhere. But Carlos spends an hour talking about beaches and some of the scientific processes that could be found on beaches and his own personal experiences anyway and Earl doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He asks questions and throws in his own commentary and when Carlos is done Earl talks about the Boy Scouts and what it was like for him growing up compared to what it’s like now that he’s Scoutmaster Earl Harlan instead of just Scout Earl Harlan.

It’s nice to feel so comfortable around someone he met so recently. Beyond the other two senior scientists on his team, Dave and Rochelle, there’s really no one in this town that he feels so at ease around. It’s definitely nice to be able to swap stories with someone like this.

Earl is in the middle of telling Carlos about how he earned his Invisibility badge by using his newly perfected abilities to sneak up on a young Steve Carlsberg to replace his peanut butter sandwich with a worm sandwich when their waitress comes by with the bill. Carlos takes a quick glance around the room to see that he and Earl are the only customers left in the place.

“We’re going to have to ask you to leave now, sirs. It’s closing time and you know the penalty for staying past closing.”

Actually, Carlos doesn’t know, but judging from the waitress’s obviously forced smile, it’s probably not something he wants to learn more about. He turns to face Earl again, but Earl is already out of his seat and on Carlos’s side of the booth to pull him up. There’s a twenty on the table that Earl must have left at some point. Carlos means to protest Earl paying for both of them, but Earl holds a hand out to stop him before the words can leave his mouth.

“You can pay next time. It was best for us to get out of there as quickly as possible.”

Carlos still feels guilty about Earl paying for him, but he just nods and smiles. There’s going to be a next time. That thought is maybe a little more exciting than it should be.

“Well, I’m going to head home now. I’ll see you later, Carlos.”

Earl gives a final wave and turns to walk to his car. Carlos watches him leave and when he can no longer see Earl, heads back to the lab.


	4. You're Invited

Carlos calls Earl the day before Dave's birthday on a whim.

It’s not the first time he’s called Earl. They’ve been texting and calling back and forth almost every day since they went to Big Rico’s and it’s nice to have someone to talk to like this. Aside from the other scientists he isn’t close to anyone in this city and Earl is a nice change of pace. That isn’t to say he has a problem with the others – Rochelle has been his friend since middle school and he roomed with Dave all through grad school and the grad students that came with them are all nice enough – but it’s good to have more than two friends. Still, calling Earl now has his hands going a little sweaty. It’s always been a little harder for him than it should be to invite people to things.

“So you know that game of laser tag I told you about?” Carlos adjusts some of the nobs on his microscope, the phone balancing precariously between his cheek and shoulder.

“The one you’re only participating in to avoid re-education? Yes, I remember.” Earl responds, a child’s voice just barely audible in the background. “What about it?”

Carlos furrows his brow. Why would Earl be around children at this hour? He’s pretty sure there’s no way Earl is still teaching and as far as Carlos is aware his troop didn’t meet today.

“Earl, are you at work? This can wait if you’re busy.”

“No, it’s fine. A few of my students got left behind when those bloodsucking butterflies attacked the other day. They’re staying here until their parents decide whether they want them or not.”

“What’ll happen if their parents—” Carlos pushes his chair away from the desk to stand, microscope forgotten. “What’ll happen if their parents decide they don’t want them? Can they even do that? Just—decide they don’t want their kids anymore?”

Silence is the only answer for at least twenty seconds and Carlos finds himself walking from his desk over to the window on the other side of the lab to a table with various different samples and back to the desk again. The thought of those kids just being left to fend for themselves because their parents didn’t feel like trying to protect them makes him anxious. It’s good that Earl is willing to take care of them, but that’s not a weight that should fall on his shoulders.

“The kids do whatever they want,” Earl says, finally. “Some of them go to work for Marcus Vansten, a few will occasionally find other families. Others just find some way to make it on their own. Usually they don’t stay with me for too long.”

The fact that some of the kids will find other families who will actually take care of them is something of a comfort, but the other two options just put Carlos even more on edge, and he half feels like he should do something to help now that he knows about this. He looks at the cabinet filled with laser guns and spare parts. The game is supposed to be tomorrow and it takes a lot of time to make the guns, but assuming Earl isn’t taking care of his entire class it probably wouldn’t be too difficult to make enough. It won’t help them in the long run, but maybe it’ll do something for them… 

“So what did you want to talk about? You were asking about that game of laser tag.” Earl’s voice brings Carlos out of his thoughts.

“You should bring them over tomorrow. For the game, I mean.”

“That’s what you’re calling about? But you didn’t even know about the kids until now.” Carlos can hear the confusion in Earl’s voice and he catches himself shaking his head before he realizes Earl won’t be able to see him over the phone.

“No, not originally. We ended up making an extra gun so I was going to invite you to play, but we have some spare parts. How many kids are you taking care of? We should have enough to make five more guns.”

Again, Earl’s immediate response is silence, but it only lasts for about five seconds this time before he sighs and starts speaking again. “There are only three of them, but you don’t have to do that Carlos. Maybe you should ask someone else. Someone you won’t have to make more guns for. You could invite Cecil. He’d probably like to play.”

“No offense to you since he is your best friend, but I think Cecil is the last person I would want to invite.”

“The last person? Really?”

“Maybe not the last person, but he’s pretty high up there.”

Earl sighs and in the background Carlos hears some shuffling and the sound of children’s voices. They sound happier than they did a moment ago.

“If I go will you consider inviting Cecil?”

Carlos leans back in his seat, running a hand through his hair, and taking the phone out from between his cheek and shoulder. He’s not doing any work right now, might as well hold the phone properly. 

“Look, I’m really not interested in him. I get that you want your friend to be happy, but I’m just not interested in dating a guy so obsessed with me that he’s constantly talking about me on his show and ran a guy out of town because he didn’t like my hair cut.”

“I don’t think you can still get mad at him for talking about you when you still haven’t talked to him about it.” Earl says. “Be direct with him. I’m telling you, if it’s bothering you that much you have to actually speak to him. I’m not saying it’ll get him to stop liking you, but it’ll get him to be less publicly vocal about it.”

It makes sense. Of course it makes sense. Direct communication is the best form of communication, but it’s not something Carlos has ever been very good at. He’s much better at keeping quiet and stewing in his own problems until they bubble over to the surface and he loses what little control he has over them.

“I think you’d like him,” Earl prompts. “Maybe not as a boyfriend, although I do think you’d like him as a boyfriend, but as a friend. He isn’t close to many people. He’s really only close to me and Old Woman Josie and she’s more like a parent to him. There’s John Peters, too, I guess, but I don’t think they talk much anymore.”

Carlos looks around the lab. At some point a few of the other scientists trickled in and are now staring at him, not even trying to hide their attempts at eavesdropping. He looks back at the desk and moves around some of his scattered notes.

“Fine.”

“So you’ll invite him?”

“He can come,” Carlos begins. “But can you invite him? Make it clear that this isn’t a date and I’m only interested in _maybe_ starting a friendship with him.”

“I’ll probably leave out the maybe part of that,” Carlos can practically hear the smile in Earl’s voice. This guy must really want Cecil to be happy if he’s getting excited about making the tiniest amount of progress in bringing them together. It’s weird that Earl would be so enthusiastic about getting the person he likes together with someone else. No one can be that selfless, can they? “But I’ll tell him he can come. It’s tomorrow, right? What time?”

“Noon-ish.”

“Great, I’ll see you then.”

Earl hangs up before Carlos even has the chance to respond. He turns around to face his team who have all taken to looking down at whatever is on the desks in front of them without actually reading or doing anything with those things.

“We’re going to need four more guns for tomorrow.”


	5. So Fucking Delighted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's nothing like a game of laser tag to bring people closer and destroy scientific equipment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It didn't take me three months to update this... Hahahaha... I don't know what you're talking about....

In retrospect, Earl probably should have given Cecil a little more than an hour’s notice about this not-date with Carlos. He probably should have told him yesterday after he got off the phone with Carlos, but he wanted to surprise Cecil. Surprises like this are always nice, right? Cecil usually likes them, but Cecil’s been staring at him open mouthed and wide-eyed for about two minutes now and Earl is half convinced he may have given Cecil a heart attack and the man actually died and he’s been wasting his time waiting for Cecil to recover.

“Um, Cecil? Are you okay?”

Cecil snaps out of his shock with a jolt.

“Oh, Earl! You’re absolutely _wonderful_! I can’t believe you did this for me! Are you going to be okay with this, though? I know how you—“

“Cecil. Remember what I said about not liking you reminding me that you don’t like me back? That’s still true.”

Cecil shrinks back slightly, a little guilty, a little sheepish, but still mostly excited. He wraps his arms around Earl and Earl holds tightly to him. Truthfully, Earl isn’t sure if he’s going to be okay with this. Carlos is a good guy and if Cecil had to reject him for anyone, he’s okay with it being Carlos, but it still hurts. 

“Thank you, Earl. I know things have been difficult between us for a long time now, but I am glad you’re my best friend.” Cecil kisses him on the cheek and Earl finds himself leaning into it just as Cecil pulls away. His smile is small and bitter.

“Would you still be saying that if I hadn’t convinced Carlos to let you come?”

The hurt is written clear across Cecil’s face and Earl knows he should take it back. He knows he should apologize and do something to smooth things over, but now he’s feeling slightly nauseous and he can’t make the words come out even though they’re on the tip of his tongue.

“What? Earl, why would you ask that? If you hadn’t convinced Carlos I might not be saying that right this second, but I’ve always been grateful to have you as my best friend.”

Now would be the time to fix this. Now would be the time to say or do anything to make Cecil smile in that way that only Cecil can to make his insides metaphorically go all gooey and his heart start racing a mile a minute. Earl doesn’t so any of those things.

“I’m sorry. Forget it. The kids are waiting downstairs. Let’s just go.”

He’s stopped by a strong hand on his arm keeping him firmly in place.

“No. Earl, I’m sorry I don’t share your feelings, but you can’t act like this.”

“Cecil, that’s not it. It’s just—” It’s exactly that. It’s absolutely that Earl can’t get over himself or Cecil and just let their friendship continue on the way it did before Cecil rejected him. “Look, Cecil, I know you aren’t close with many people, but you have to know that the way things have been between us isn’t the way things should be between two best friends.”

“What do you want me to do?” It’s more a demand than a question and the way Cecil is looking at him now causes him to shrink back and look away from his intense gaze. He looks hurt and angry and ten million other emotions Earl can’t properly give names to right now.

“I don’t know. Talk to me more? Sometimes it feels like you’re actually afraid of getting to close to me and I don’t know why. Did I do something? Is it because I like you? I mean, I’ve talked to _Carlos_ more than I’ve talked to you lately.”

Cecil’s free hand clenches and unclenches at his side and the hand that had been holding Earl’s arm drops to do the same. Earl should have kept his mouth shut, but no. No, he just had to keep running his mouth and effectively turn himself into the biggest ass in the world. 

“Earl, you—“

A knock on Earl’s bedroom window makes them both jump. Neither of them had been expecting that, but that’s what he SSP is there for, isn’t it? Doing things when people least expect them and all.

“You two should really get going or you’ll be late.”

They both nod at the officer, giving each other looks of such mixed emotions that it would take years to list them all out. There’s something else Cecil wants to say and Earl wants to hear it, but the conversation is done. Whatever it is Cecil wanted to say isn’t going to be said tonight.

“C’mon,” Cecil says, slipping his hand in Earl’s. “I would hate to upset Carlos by arriving late.”

His smile is small and sad and trying too hard to be happy, but at least it is a smile. So much better than those awful looks he’d just been giving Earl less than a minute ago.

The drive to Carlos’s lab is tense, at least where Earl and Cecil are concerned. Neither of them says anything and both pointedly refuse to look at each other for even the briefest of moments. The kids in the back don’t seem to notice or if they do they don’t seem to care and if they do care they don’t do anything with that feeling. They just talk loudly, as kids are wont to do, about how they’re going to beat each other and everyone in the game and nobody can stop them.

It’s annoying, but no one says anything to quiet them.

Arriving at the lab is better. Cecil is all bright eyes and smiles by the time he steps out of the car and Earl can see that it’s partially forced while being mostly genuine. He’d be jealous that getting to spend time with Carlos made Cecil so happy if he weren’t feeling so shitty about being the one to make Cecil miserable in the first place.

Carlos walks out to greet them before they get to the door and the kids rush past him to get inside the lab before Earl even has the chance to introduce them. Carlos watches them with a small, but fond smile that grows when he looks at Earl, and falters when he sees Cecil. Earl knows Cecil must see it, but he doesn’t give any sort of reaction. Cecil only straightens himself up a bit, puts on a friendly smile, and extends his hand out to Carlos once he’s close enough.

“Carlos, it’s so good to see you! I was beginning to think we’d never see each other outside of a professional context.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’ve been busy. With science, you know.” Carlos takes Cecil’s outstretched hand, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. He’s the picture of discomfort and judging from the way Cecil pulls his hand away almost as soon as Carlos touches him, he can see it too. Earl feels a little guilty about the way he simultaneously feels happy that Carlos is making Cecil feel just as awful as Cecil has made Earl feel for the past two years and annoyed that Carlos can’t make more of an effort to pretend he wants Cecil here. 

Earl steps forward to take Carlos’s hand for his own handshake, ignores the way Carlos visibly brightens when he does so.

“We should probably head inside. Those kids won’t like being made to wait for much longer.”

Night Vale’s lethal version of laser tag is apparently very similar to everywhere else’s non-lethal version, the main difference being, of course, that in Night Vale you’re typically trying to kill your opponent. It’s a tossup as to who the best player is among Earl, Cecil, and the children. Rochelle is the next best after them and the rest of Carlos’s team are all varying degrees of not as good as those guys and better than Carlos.

They’ve stacked up some of the less fragile equipment to create cover spots and flipped a few of the tables for the same purpose. It’s a rudimentary laser tag arena at best, but it’s pretty good for something they learned how to do through the internet and set up in under a week.

Crouched behind one of the flipped tables, Carlos peeks over to see if he can spot anyone nearby. He thinks he can see Luke just a few feet away hidden behind a stack of old boxes and Cecil in the corner of the room behind an ancient TV set that he and the other scientists have been meaning to move since they got here, but haven’t gotten around to yet. Carlos can’t make out what Cecil is doing back there, but Luke has his gun raised and is periodically scanning the area for someone to shoot at.

No one has been hit yet and no one is willing to be the first one to get hit.

Someone crouches next to Carlos and when he looks over to see who it is, he nearly jumps ten feet out of his skin at the sight of Cecil there. He doesn’t, though, opting instead to let out a high pitched yelp which Cecil muffles by pressing his hand against Carlos’s mouth. The index finger of the hand not covering Carlos’s mouth moves up to Cecil’s lips in the universal ‘shh’ sign and then points up.

There’s a small child hanging off the ceiling fan looking every bit like a lion about to pounce on its prey and Carlos feels a deep sense of dread settle in the pit of his stomach at the sight. They made the lasers to be far from lethal, but it’s hard to remember that when there’s someone with that murderous of a look on their face, child or not. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to have seen them yet. He looks back at Cecil who motions for Carlos to follow him.

They creep quietly across the floor to a stack of boxes. It’s got more height than the table and isn’t in the child’s line of sight as directly should she turn around. She hasn’t yet. From here, Carlos can see another one of the children staring back at the child on the ceiling fan. Neither of them have a good enough angle to make shooting and giving their positions away to the other, but neither seem willing to focus on other targets either. It’s clear they know who the real competition is. They’re not even bothering with the weak ones yet

It seems a little counterproductive to save the worst players for last, but Carlos supposes second graders have a lot to learn about things like that. He turns his attention back to Cecil, but Cecil is focusing on something else now. He’s inching closer to the side of the boxes, laser gun at the ready. It’s kind of funny to see a grown man taking a game so seriously and he grins, forgetting for a moment that this is also the man who talks about his love for Carlos to the entire town without any regard for how Carlos might feel about it. 

Not that Carlos has been the best at communicating his discomfort about it. Not that he’s made any attempt to contact Cecil about it to even be the best at communicating it.

Carlos’s grin falls, the corners of his mouth turning down into a small frown. Maybe—maybe he’s been a little harsh on Cecil. In retrospect, it’s not like Cecil talks about him all the time. Far from it, actually. It’s just that on the occasions he _does_ , it’s weird. Really weird. Weird enough to color Carlos’s overall opinion of him. But this Cecil—the one he’s seeing now—is so different from the one who talks about him on the radio.

Or maybe he isn’t. Maybe this is just what Cecil is like when Carlos isn’t making assumptions about Cecil’s regard for Carlos’s feelings when Carlos hasn’t made even a single attempt to talk to him about it.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. He should talk to Cecil.

“Ce—“

Later. He should talk to Cecil later. Now there is no time for talking. Now there’s only Cecil shooting the child hanging from the fan, the child that had been staring at the one on the fan scrambling to avoid Cecil’s second shot, and yet another child _coming up from the floorboards of the lab_. Carlos fumbles with his laser gun for just a moment, jumping back to avoid getting shot, and just barely managing to shoot the child under the floorboards. He just barely manages it, but he manages, and the child sinks back underground, slamming the floorboard they came up from behind them.

He barely has any time to register what just happened before Cecil is pulling him up by his arm and dragging him to a better hiding place. The run to one of the back rooms of the lab, skidding to a halt behind a table, and falling to the floor in a mess of giggles.

“Did you see that?” Cecil manages to gasp out, still holding onto Carlos’s arm.

Carlos keeps a hand over his mouth. He’s always found his laugh to be too loud and somewhat obnoxious and certainly the sort of laugh that would give away their hiding spot in an instant.

“There was a kid hiding _underground_ , Cecil. Underground! How did he even get there?”

Cecil is laughing too hard to answer. It’s gone to one of those silent laughs—the ones that come when you’ve laughed so hard you probably shouldn’t be able to laugh anymore, but just can’t stop. He doubles over, his head coming to rest on Carlos’s shoulder, and for a moment Carlos’s posture stiffens. Cecil doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s doing and it’s not as awkward as Carlos would have expected, even if it isn’t his preferred position. He relaxes again, Cecil not seeming to notice that he’d ever been tense.

“You two seem to be having fun.”

In the corner of the room closest to them, Earl is crouched in a hiding space of his own. Carlos wonders how long Earl has been watching them and if the soft smile on his face is meant for Cecil or Carlos or possibly the both of them.

Cecil jumps in surprise, blinks at Earl, and then looks back at Carlos in alarm. He takes the hand that had still been holding his arm back quickly and scoots a few inches away so that they’re no longer touching each other at all.

“Sorry.” Cecil mumbles and Carlos can’t help but feel a little guilty about it.

He offers Cecil a small smile of his own and a soft “it’s fine,” but Cecil is looking at the floor instead of him so he turns his attention back to Earl whose soft smile has turned to a soft frown. The intended recipient of this frown is just as unclear as the frown, but Carlos finds he wants to know who it’s intended for far less.

“Have the two of you been successful so far?”

“Cecil more than me, I think.” Carlos smiles over at Cecil again, nudging Cecil’s foot with his own.

Cecil stops looking so guilty about touching Carlos and busies himself with examining the end of his braid. A few strands have fallen out, but overall it’s surprisingly neat. Carlos wonders how Cecil got so good at braiding his own hair. Even with over twenty years of practice, Carlos can barely braid his sisters’ hair without turning it into one big knot.

“I managed to hit a few of the other scientists and two children. I haven’t been _that_ successful.” Cecil says, the proud little grin that breaks out over his face clearly letting them know he’s only being modest for appearances. 

“That’s more than me! I only got one of the kids and I doubt I would have done it without you there, Cecil.” Carlos isn’t entirely sure if that’s true, but when Cecil’s smile grows double its original size he finds he doesn’t care. Cecil has a nice smile. “What about you, Earl?”

“Oh, I managed to get a few of the scientists, too. Not sure which ones. Not Simon or Dave. And, I also managed to get…” Earl lifts his gun so quickly Carlos doesn’t have any time to react and Earl shoots him before he even fully realizes what’s happening. “You.”

Earl smirks, Carlos’s mouth falls open, and Cecil tries (and fails) to stifle a laugh behind his hand.

“Hey! That isn’t fair! That shouldn’t count!” Carlos huffs, crosses his arms over his chest. “Scientifically speaking that should not count.”

“Science has no place in laser tag, Carlos.”

“Science has a place in _everything_ , Earl.”

Carlos looks to Cecil for support and in the split second it takes for him to do that both Earl and Cecil have maneuvered so that their guns are pointed at each other and they’re pulling the triggers at the same time. Earl groans and lets his gun drop to the floor.

“ _That’s_ not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war, dear Earl.”

Mercifully, Carlos isn’t given any time to dwell on Cecil’s usage of the word “love”. The moment the last syllable of Earl’s name leaves Cecil’s mouth there’s a loud crash from one of the other rooms and a voice that Carlos immediately recognizes as Dave shouting a muffled “fuck!”.

The three of them share a worried look, all scrambling up to investigate the source of the crashing and Dave’s distress. It isn’t hard to figure out that source. They walk into the room Cecil and Carlos had run from only minutes ago to find the ceiling fan in pieces on the floor along with a great deal of broken scientific equipment. In the middle of it all stands Simon and a child Carlos last remembers seeing underground.

Simon looks like he might be sick. The child looks irritatingly proud of himself.

Carlos stumbles back, his balance suddenly tenuous at best.

Why…

How…

“Carlos?” Concern is written across Cecil’s face, hand outstretched to place a steadying hand on Carlos’s shoulder.

Carlos runs a hand over his face. _He_ might actually be sick. All of this equipment… The fan…

Carlos vaguely registers someone calling out his name and two pairs of arms catching him before he loses consciousness.


End file.
